#Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3’s Fifteen Adaption (Part 50/???)

Bones’ Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (29/?)

Ah, and speaking of that very visible struggle of Arthur’s, this is not the only scene within the original telling of Fifteen through which we can catch an extremely good glimpse of it in action; as a matter of fact, the one we were just talking about prior — in which Dazai confronts our helpless associate executive at the abandoned warehouse during the preparation for Chuuya’s would-be party — holds an even more clear exhibition of this trait, as Randou grapples with his inability to understand, keep up with, and satisfy his accuser’s demands.

When we look at the true version of this scene with this perspective in mind, the ebony-haired man’s simple statement of “Basis coming from you, I can’t imagine what it is” suddenly takes on a whole new level of importance, as we can at last appreciate it for what it truly was: an honest admission from Rimbaud that he could not even begin to fathom Osamu’s all-too-cynical, analytical, and cold thought processes — and indeed, how could he have? The ill-fated frenchman and the much younger mafioso-to-be were as different as night and day.

Try as he might, quite literally even to save his own life, Arthur — being the pure-hearted, kind, and selfless soul that he is — could never in a million years have hoped to truly comprehend the mind of such a person as the devilish prodigy in front of him, and he no doubt knew that mortifyingly well.

After all, while the only time we may have absolutely guaranteed to us through the book that they were well and mutually acquainted with each other was the past year following the old boss’ assassination — and truthfully, that alone should really be time enough to get to know one another fairly extensively, anyway — that does not necessarily mean that this is the whole extent of their history together, either; on the contrary, there is actually quite a bit of evidence to back up the notion that the bandaged teen and the raven-haired mafioso should very well have been introduced long, long before that, should one take a few moments to consider the timeline of events as we, at present, can best understand them.

Indeed, though it might at first seem that Dazai had only actively been involved and known in the Port Mafia after the arranged death of the predecessor, this is actually highly unlikely, for, if this were genuinely to be true, it would mean that the boy had absolutely no standing within the organization prior to that moment, and that lack of pre-existing credibility would have created a major flaw in the usurper’s plan — a mistake that I find it very hard to believe the ever-thoughtful-towards-the-optimal-solution Mori would have overlooked, to say nothing of the fact that it never truly caused any of the fatal problems it inescapably would have if it had actually come to pass. No, without question, it’s far more sensible to just conclude that Dazai was already a highly esteemed and trustworthy figure in the Mafia by proxy, and that he was chosen by Mori as an accomplice for this very reason.

And as for Randou, there can be no doubt that he also had been in the Mafia for quite some time before Mori had taken over, considering not only how clearly established it is within the novel that the Hyperspace wielder had already been cruelly toiling away at the front line under the old boss’ reign for a considerable period prior to the organization’s change of hands, but also the fact that Dazai even goes so far as to call him a veteran in the business during the events of Fifteen — a title that one would normally not be able to earn unless they had put in several years worth of work into a given trade. What’s more, when we take into account the knowledge that by the time in which the novel takes place, Rimbaud has now been stranded alone in Japan with a heavy case of amnesia for roughly eight years following the failure of his mission with Verlaine, the idea that he had been working within the infamous criminal enterprise for that entire span of time actually seems rather plausible.

I hardly find it outrageous, then, in light of just how little debate there can be that Rimbaud came to know exactly how dark, cynical, and complex the bandaged young man’s views of the world and people around him were, to say that when the moment came that he was saddled with such heavy charges, the knowledge of those views must have been especially hard on him, for many, many reasons.

Naturally, the most immediately evident of these, to the average person, might very easily be his inability to fathom Dazai’s basis for ultimately finding his testimony objectionable or otherwise suspicious despite his relative honesty — and understandably so, especially given that it was this very issue which caused him to make the remark which we were just now analyzing in the first place; however, noteworthy as that one example may be, if we are ever to truly grasp Arthur’s plight in this moment to its full extent and genuinely come to understand him properly as an individual, it is utterly imperative that we realize that the consequences of his innocence run much, much deeper than this alone — as do his causes for concern.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 49/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (28/?)

The problems born out of this come in multitudes.

Naturally, the most unmistakable side-effect of this dilemma that we can see unfold in Fifteen are the times when Arthur fails at being able to figure out the precise details of a much emotionally and mentally darker individual’s reason for an action or idea, and the thought processes behind it.

His distinct part — or rather, total lack thereof — in the speculation about GSS’ motive for the attack on his mansion is one such instance, wherein we watch him greatly struggle with viewing things from the perspective of his would-be assailants, unable to truly understand on his own the exact motive they might have had for what they had done to him.

Astonishingly, I must confess that this is one of those very few moments in which the anime was much more obvious and direct in its display of Rimbaud’s true nature than even its source material had been — choosing, in lieu of having him simply not try to take any active part in the discussion at all, as was the traditional route, to instead make him openly, audibly express his ineptitude at discerning GSS’ incentive to the two young teens that had come to his rescue in words, asking them for their thoughts on why someone would ever want to do something so brutal, and why it was happening to *him* specifically, because he could not even begin to imagine it for himself.

With the novel’s context in mind, this makes perfect sense for his character; after all, as I said before and as Asagiri makes absolutely certain is clear to everyone with that one and only truly canonical version of the tale, throughout the entirety of his existence, Randou had never acted with his own self-interest in mind, nor was he really even truly capable of ever gaining such a mindset, when it came to the things he had done — especially not over something that could negatively impact another person’s life. Thus, in cases like GSS’ sudden attack on his mansion, where the exact reasoning behind the incident requires solving and the answer is not even remotely so pure or selfless as Arthur’s own motives tend to be, it is genuinely no surprise whatsoever that, rather than wasting any time on trying to figure it out himself — a task that he no doubt knew he stood no chance at completing, all too self-aware as he clearly was of his own weaknesses — he would instantly seek and ask for the expertise of others far less disadvantaged than he on the matter, in his place.

Of course, even with all of that being the case, that still doesn’t mean that I’m anywhere near naive enough to think that this change within the show was really being done with the ultimate preservation of Rimbaud’s authentic personality in mind, because it’s very apparent that that is in no way the case; in fact, if anything, I dare say I’m quite confident in affirming that their intent was most probably the exact opposite, considering that, paying due mind to all of Bones’ later actions with this adaption as a whole, and the false narrative that they had plainly chosen to tell therein, it seems much, much more likely that this scene was meant to play a different role and purpose entirely — one which would actually serve to further their agenda, rather than do harm to it. Yes, while it could very well have just been an innocent change made with no ill will behind it, I must admit that it is far easier to think, given their track record, that it is hardly an accident that to the average anime-only viewer, this altered scene could now work to accomplish nothing but to make the associate executive’s meekness and innocence merely seem even more terribly unbelievable and suspect once the disingenuous, forced shift in his character and tone is eventually ‘revealed’ at the end of the episode.

Nonetheless, whether it was truthfully done with good or bad intentions in mind, or even no intentions at all but to simplify the dialogue and make for a faster progression of the scene — which is another, albeit less interesting, possibility — the fact of the matter still remains that when looked at through the lens of a person who is aware of the character’s true self, these changes still served the best of these three possibilities very well, working as a much more on-the-nose interpretation of his thinking and behavior than its progenitor. 

Indeed, the anime’s idea was grand and, had it honestly been done with such noble aims as I would have liked to have been able to believe that it was, I would even have gone so far as to say it was an absolutely brilliant way to get the concept across in a largely visual and audio-based medium, but at the same, I also do not want to completely distract away from or totally ignore the original telling of this moment, either, as even if the book’s approach was a more subtle one that handled the subject in a somewhat more roundabout way compared to the television series’ interpretation, it nevertheless did manage to display Rimbaud’s authentic nature fairly nicely, itself, and was equally excellent in its own right.

Although no actual, verbal questioning of motive may have taken place on Randou’s part in said original version as it did in its derivative, by having the poor eternally freezing man fail to even make an attempt at contributing in any way to the conversation on why the attack occurred until after the boys hand him the answers, it nevertheless manages to achieve the same affect, with his silence clearly demonstrating to the reader his utter helplessness in this situation — a helplessness that even Bones themselves were able to read between the lines in order to recognize and decided to acknowledge within the anime, whatever their reason for doing so.

(...Well, either that or Asagiri took the time to stress that part to them, but I’m trying to use a more generous interpretation here...) [Next]

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 48/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (27/?)

In his final years, the thing that Mori’s predecessor valued most in his men, from what we were shown and told, was pure brute strength that could overwhelm and crush any and all of the Mafia’s enemies, with no strategizing or defensive measures necessary, and our eternally freezing frenchman was most decidedly not it, by any possible definition; given that it took many, many years before the foreigner himself was even able to recall that his special ability possessed the power to subsume the dead and use them in battle, his trademark subspace was thus, at the time, understood only to have been built primarily for defense, to the best of anyone’s knowledge — something which, in the Godfather’s eyes, would have been practically useless.

Still, I doubt if that was the only reason why he was so rejected by the old man as a potential candidate for anything other than cannon fodder; no matter whether it is blatantly apparent to you by this point in the article yet or not, considering that Randou was, by default, just about as far from an eager warrior as one could hope to get, it’s only natural that this would have made his life of even less value to said previous leader than it was already; after all, even if he had happened to possess the most ideal ability in the world, so long as his conscience would still continue to drive him to shy away from engaging in violence and cruelty as much was humanly possible for someone in his position, it would not have been of any consequence or use to the corporation. No, indeed, if he was not willing to become a murder machine that would kill ruthlessly and indiscriminately under his superior’s orders, then the only way to make effective use of him in a similar manner would be to throw him headfirst onto the front lines, where he would have no choice but to either defend himself and his comrades by participating in the fight, or lay down and die, letting everyone else that he could potentially protect die with him.

Even after he was eventually released from this personal Hell by Mori’s ascension to the throne, though, his trials and struggles were still not entirely over. Undoubtedly, his recognition by Mori for his gift and the promotion to associate executive that he received thereafter made his life much easier and more pleasant, as it afforded him greater opportunity to live it at least a little closer to the way he wanted by giving him a boss who appreciated him for his talents and largely respected his wishes, understanding that his skill set was, on the whole, best suited to things other than killing; however, these were not the only personal hardships he had to face in this sort of job — merely the only ones which anyone could make go away for him.

As heartening and constructive of a thing as it may be in all other senses, in a cutthroat world such as the one he was now in, Rimbaud’s purity could only serve to put him at a significant disadvantage to everyone else in his field in all too many ways, whenever it came down to his own self-preservation, or being able to properly assess his allies and foes completely objectively.

Now, I absolutely do not want you to get me wrong on this; in no way am I suggesting even in the slightest that Rimbaud isn’t intelligent or insightful enough to deduce these sorts of things about the criminal underworld as a whole, or even to recognize some more subtle signs of danger, because despite how it might initially sound, that is definitely not the case nor the issue here. If anything, the hyperspace user has actually proven himself to be extremely clever to those ends under the right circumstances, in light of not only his aforementioned statement during the setup of the party about the prevailing force behind violence and conflict in the world, but also his keen instinct towards Dazai’s sinister intentions in setting up the supposed ‘celebration’ — to say nothing of the fact that he had even pieced together enough information from their short time together to suspect Chuuya of being Arahabaki whilst someone like Dazai remained entirely clueless about it until the reveal.

Indeed, looking back upon it all, it cannot but become all the more clear that the only thing which was likely holding him back from being just as masterful as Dazai in every sense was one very simple, yet key truth — that Osamu was very cynical about the world around him and more than capable of thinking diabolically and selfishly even on a regular basis, whilst Rimbaud was not.

Had Randou possessed even half of the brunet’s skepticism, ruthlessness, and self-interest, then he doubtlessly would have risen to his high station as associate executive long ago, under the old boss’ reign, and effortlessly gotten away with his supposed traitorous acts against Mori — no longer held back by the inherent honesty that gave birth to the singular, fatal flaw within the otherwise careful forethought and planning that went into his elaborate “trap” for Arahabaki, nor the morally-fueled hesitance or countless acts of compassion that inevitably led to his defeat and death; however, this was just not who he was or could ever be, even in situations where his life might very well depend upon that capability that he lacked, and so he instead remained the exact opposite of it all as ever before, paying many a price and facing many a struggle over all of the difficulties and disadvantages that came along with that path he so diligently walked.

Yes, for all of the effort the animated adaption may put into convincing its audience of the contrary, the truth of the matter will always remain that nothing Randou had ever done was truly selfish at heart, nor did he hold any disregard or lack of respect for the absolute preciousness of life and all those who lived it; as I have said time and time again, he is a kind soul with an optimistic and loving heart that wants only the best for others, even at the cost of his own happiness, and the only motive he truly had behind his ‘scheme’ was that of recovering enough memories of a tragedy he survived to find and save the person he considered to be his best and dearest friend from what, to him, he imagined to be a life or death situation — no matter the cost to himself.

This way of life is not just a facade, as the show will foolishly try to tell you; it is simply the kind of person he is, through and through, and that in itself is where the trouble comes in the most for him; because he has no other side but this in the way he acts and perceives things, this means that it can often be difficult for him to put himself in the shoes of others who do not think in the same way — even if he might know for a fact that they think very differently from him, and comprehends the general, bare concept of what compels them — without projecting at least a little of himself and his own code onto them and what he sees within them.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 47/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (26/?)

Given the storyline’s reliance on this specific facet of his personality in the novel, there can be no doubt that, in what can be considered equal parts a precious blessing and a tragic curse to his own existence, one of the most powerful elements of Randou’s character, besides his extraordinary compassion and gentiliy, is the gift he has of possessing a heart and mind that can see the potential for good and for change in all beings, if only they would put forth the effort to try — no matter how small the chance of that happening might actually be.

Whereas the rest of the world may look upon beings and ability users like Chuuya Nakahara and Paul Verlaine — whom are, respectively, the human vessel of Arahabaki, and Rimbaud’s own beloved Transcendent partner and ‘friend’, known for his unrivaled title as King of Assassins — and view them as dangerous monsters, Rimbaud himself sees beyond all of this, glimpsing the humanity in those whom everyone else would call inhuman, and seeing the rays of hope for salvation in those whom all others would gladly condemn.

In this way, it can certainly be said that the ebony-haired mafioso is quite optimistic and idealistic in his outlook — even fatally so, truthfully.

Yes, although this way of thinking absolutely paved the way for him to positively change the lives of many people who desperately needed such help and encouragement, that very same strength, when combined with all of the other beautiful traits that made him such a unique and wonderful soul who was capable of these amazing things — his intense loyalty and obvious transparency, his softspoken and gentle yet deeply loving heart, and his desire to never be a disappointment or inconvenience to others — also proved to be his greatest weakness in his own daily life, until it ultimately led to his highly lamentable death.

Truly, Arthur was simply not suited for this life that he had been so cruelly dealt; even if we were to temporarily set aside all of the physical and emotional suffering he endured at the hands of the cold-hearted, abusive, and traitorous Verlaine — the PTSD from which essentially ensured his premature demise years before it came to pass — for later discussion in a more appropriate area, and focus for the moment only on his time as an associate executive, it nonetheless remains something of a miracle that he managed to survive within the Mafia even for as long as he did.

Most assuredly, Illuminations, as an ability, is a terribly handy and useful asset for any organization to have, and it went a long way in protecting its master’s life until it had the chance to be recognized as just that by Mori, but even so, Transcendental with an exceptionally powerful gift or not, it is also no wonder why he was cast out to the frontlines like yesterday’s trash by the old boss with no concern for whether he lived or died in lieu of being promoted, either.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 46/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (25/?)

Randou’s commentary on violence and its role in society near the beginning of this scene, in particular, is extremely insightful into these matters, as it makes for a very clear and easy entry point toward introducing you all to one of the biggest repeating themes regarding him over the course of the book — namely, the absurdly strong moral compass and values he holds despite his position as a high-ranking member of the Mafia — and, when paired with these other supporting words and actions from other segments, offers us a stunningly detailed glimpse into that very same unique mind and personality of his.

Save for this single exception of a character, it has always been made painstakingly clear that every even remotely notable character in the Port Mafia — or even the criminal underworld in general, for that matter — simply sees crime and violence as a way of life which, whether or not they are or were capable of recognizing that by average moral standards would be considered wrong, is still made wholly justifiable or perhaps entirely “correct” by whatever subjectively desirable results it produces.

Without doubt, the approach, attitude, and motive of each person within this category is varied in many ways; those like Akutagawa or Shibusawa seem not to care much at all for ‘morality’ or recognize it as holding any worth, caring instead only about if an action will get them closer or farther from their greatest personal desires, whereas those like Mori or Gogol do recognize their actions as being morally reprehensible and may even struggle with them to their own varying degrees but ultimately see them as more than warranted anyway by the outcomes they receive, whilst still others such as Fyodor or Ivan feel very little if any guilt over their ways and truly believe themselves to be in the right with what they do, but even so, at their core, they all share this one base philosophy in common — that circumstances either completely negate or otherwise overrule and outweigh any supposed wrongdoing to a point where it no longer matters.

Rimbaud, however, differentiates and distances himself from all of this by his very nature, always showing sound ethical judgement in the way he perceives the life and career choices of himself and others, and, despite also being more than capable of acknowledging that human greed will always result in someone in the world using such methods in order to get ahead of others and thus inspire others to retaliate in return, still makes no attempt to use this sad truth as an excuse to claim that war and violence are truly necessary for living and therefore made any less cruel, wrong, or reprehensible by proxy; instead, he denies this myth outright, striking it and the alibi it creates down right where it stands, at the very moment that the subject comes up.

In addition, he also refuses to take sides in terms of either laying the blame on ‘rival’ organizations for disputes, or placing the label of guilt upon his own, as he had so plainly stated back during the two teens’ visit with him in his mansion; no, on the contrary, though many others in the Port Mafia might, for the given example, lay claim that their group had the right of things in the long-standing war against Sheep and only acted in retaliation of a previous attack, Arthur himself actively avoids supporting this and thereby painting inaccurate mental images of black and white like those within the hearts of anyone who might ask his opinion, expressing that it is really only a matter of perspective as to which group was the most responsible — if indeed one of them was actually more guilty than the other to begin with — and that he had no interest in accusing either of them.

To him, people are not defined by where they have come from or the establishments to which they swear their allegiances, and so, consequently, seeing as that he treats every member of a given group as an individual rather than one part of a particular objectively moral or immoral whole, no company itself can or should ever be viewed as inherently ‘good’ or ‘evil’. You will never once in the real Fifteen see Randou call any organization wholly evil, nor will you really even see him bestow such a label upon any one person, either; you may hear him say, for example, that the current boss of GSS is a cold-hearted ability user, or that Mori has made the Port Mafia a much better place under his reign, but this is not remotely the same as saying that the Mafia and Gelhart Security Services or the aforementioned individuals who run them are, in and of themselves, thoroughly righteous or wicked.

It is only the deeds of an individual and the independent convictions that led to them — not the person behind the acts — that he is comfortable defining in such ways, and therein lies another crucial plot point which moves this story forward in innumerable ways: that Arthur, for all intents and purposes, does not think of others in terms of strictly ‘friend’ or ‘foe’; because all living beings are equal to him, regardless of their profession or place of origin, this means that, as far as he is concerned, there are no actual enemies in life, in the true sense of the word — only people whose missions are compatible with his, and people whose missions are not.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 45/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (24/?)

On Randou’s Genuine Compassion & Consideration, and His Impossible Purity of Heart

Ah yes, Arthur’s true nature — another important matter that the original version of this scene played a key role in further establishing and clarifying in many critical ways, but which was tragically ‘lost’ in the tale’s transition into animated form. No, on second thought, let me be more blunt about that; to use the word ‘lost’ to describe these events — even ironically — would still be to grant Bones too much plausible deniability, as I fear that the intention behind this word might somehow be missed by someone, even as I try my best to make that clear. This information about and characterization of Rimbaud was not lost; it was cut, intentionally, because it was not convenient to them.

What the studio does to Fifteen and its ‘anti-villain’ antagonist — yes, anti-villain is the closest term to fit Randou, though not exactly to a tee, for reasons you’ll find out later — is not done in error or with any degree of innocence, but rather, with full desire to essentially ‘reverse’ the audience’s perception of him and Dazai from what they would have been under the preservation of the original plot by demonizing the former and romanticizing the latter.

Yes, you heard me correctly; in the source material, those two individuals are the complete opposite of what the anime would like you to believe they are.

In the novel, whereas Dazai’s behavior is shown to always be extremely self-centered and manipulative at heart, Randou’s words and actions are, by contrast, almost never anything less than entirely genuine, as is the pure kindness and compassion they exude — a statement which, I’m sure, has many people poised at this very moment to comment how ludicrous they believe it is in light of his later willingness to fight against Dazai and Chuuya, but for those of you who are wanting to do so, I must ask that you please just kindly refrain until you have at least��taken the time to fully read through the rest of this article, as I think you will soon find upon doing so that things are not quite as you believe them to be in that case, either.

Indeed, even Dazai himself, in spite of his extremely cynical view of everything around him and his initial refusal to outright admit that Arthur is exactly that kind of person in so many words, still openly acknowledges in numerous other different ways that Rimbaud’s sincerity is nonetheless just as real as anything ever could be, whether he always intended to or not — long before he is forced to accept, at the end of it all, that it is the gospel truth.

Before we can even think about going over the things which the bandaged teen has said and done that support this notion, though, we first have to properly explore what Arthur’s personality and true nature even is, as well as where we can see it all most clearly, as there is a lot more to be learned and understood about him in Fifteen than might meet the eye at a first glance.

While the primary, most obvious testimony to his overly caring ways throughout all that we have already discussed might be the extreme patience, desire to please, and overall soft-spoken gentility that he shows within these particular interactions with Dazai, these are far from the only examples we have to look at when trying to get a closer look at what kind of a person he is, and much less are such basic personality traits the sole information we can learn about him.

No, indeed, the understanding of Arthur that we are given in the novel goes much, much deeper than that; if you only look a bit closer, you will quickly see that — as opposed to the anime’s incredibly simplistic, extremely shallow rendition of his person — he is his own fully fleshed out, carefully researched and lovingly written individual who easily stands out in many ways from the rest of the already distinct and highly dissimilar cast.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 22/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (1/?)

Alright, now that I’ve gotten everything else out of the way, it’s time to dive into the main and — at least, in my eyes — most important section of this article; in other words, it’s time to discuss everything in this story directly relating to Randou and his crucial involvement in it, and how this adaption manages to get nearly all of that completely wrong.

While all of the points mentioned in the previous sections were mostly forgivable to some degree due to the fact that they primarily had little to no significant bearing on the overall plot and/or the character development of those who had not already been extremely well-established and understood, the same absolutely cannot be said of the majority of the things that I am going to be mentioning in this section; the handling of Randou and Arahabaki and their personalities, motives, and roles in the story as a whole within the anime adaption, as well as nearly all of the minor and major omissions, alterations, and mischaracterizations that happened therein, ultimately led to the utter destruction and devastation of the original plot to a level beyond any forgiveness or reconciliation, and that is not something that ought to be brushed off or ignored for any reason.

Ah, but there will be plenty of time to get into the full, ugly details of their crimes and how and why they did so much damage to Fifteen’s integrity as their turns come around; for now, let’s start with what will probably be the most positive and light-hearted part of this section — that is to say, Randou’s very first introduction into the tale — and work our way through everything in relatively chronological order from there.

Chuuya’s Restraints & The First Glimpse of Randou’s Ability

Our very first introduction to Randou happens at exactly the same time in both versions of the story; after the explosion in Suribachi City — a blast created by the old boss — knocks Dazai, Chuuya, and Hirotsu out cold, they are eventually brought back to the Port Mafia headquarters offscreen, and the next scene opens to Mori’s office at the very highest level of the building, where the freezing associate executive is helping the mafia godfather restrain Chuuya using his hyperspace ability.

Now before I get into the smaller details, let me start off by saying that of every single scene in this anime adaption, this in particular is the one that came the absolute closest to playing out exactly as it did in the light novel, and when I say close, I mean spectacularly close; the composition, the pacing, the visuals, and even the dialogue itself all present themselves together in such a way that it is, in my very subjective opinion, just as good as the real thing in many ways, if not actually more — at least up until the point where Mori finishes showing them the security footage of the old boss blaming the underground doctor for his death.

And listen — yes, I know that sounds extremely strange coming from someone who clearly has such a heavy disdain for this adaption, but I am absolutely serious when I say that I think this particular scene is a stellar example of what the animated Fifteen could have been all the way through if it had been done right. Out of all of these three episodes that make up this badly mutilated mini-arc, this is the only part that I genuinely will willingly go back time and time again to watch the first episode just to see, and even with as short as it is, it is always worth it every single time. It may sound extremely presumptuous of me, too, to go so far as to say that it could actually improve or be better than its very beloved source material, and I acknowledge that, but that is genuinely how I feel about the matter, and how very much I love it.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 43/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (22/?)

From the very start, Dazai’s intentions in holding a ‘celebration’ for Chuuya were never even remotely pure; even if we were to entertain the idea that he didn’t come into this with the aim of setting the perfect stage for murdering Arthur — which, as I’ll be explaining soon enough in another section, he almost definitely did in some form or another — the plans he revealed to said associate executive about using the cake and inviting atmosphere to lure Chuuya into an elaborate pre-planned trap where he will, in the sadistic teen’s own words, be left ‘suffocating’ under roughly 40 pounds of flour in a hole full of mud, unable to do anything but just barely keep himself alive and able to breathe through the use of his ability, should be more than enough to convince anyone of this.

And before anyone says that this was nothing more than an innocent prank, and that I’m just dramatizing it to make it sound worse than it really was, as a matter of fact, no, I am not; if anything, I’m actually putting it much less brutally and far more concisely than the way in which Osamu himself gleefully described it:

Listen, I’m not trying to ruin things for anyone, and I’m not denying that some small part of Dazai may eventually learn to genuinely care about Chuuya in his own unique and complicated way, nor am I saying that he doesn’t later learn to care for others in general and even become a significantly better person in the process, but I’m also not going to sugarcoat the truth about this particular version of him just because it may not be what some people want to hear; whether you like it or you hate it, for better or for worse, the simple unavoidable fact of the matter is that at this point in time, Dazai genuinely cared about no one but himself, and while the anime works hard to deny that as much as possible — even if it means sacrificing the entire true plot — the book is blatantly honest about it and even relies upon this reality to create the compelling and moving narrative it was always meant to contain.

To fifteen-year-old Dazai, because of both his extreme intelligence and the physical and emotional suffering he’s endured from a young age, the world and everything he’s found so far within it is boring and meaningless, and life seems to hold nothing in store but heartache and misery; having yet to meet anyone that he is willing to believe could ever prove this or his putridly cynical views of humanity even remotely wrong, he wanders through life with the sole goal of finding and creating entertainment for himself that can help to pass the empty days until he either succeeds in dying or finds the reason to live for which he searches — and this approach to his existence is something he makes absolutely no effort to hide.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 23/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (2/?)

Please don’t get me wrong here; there are certainly some minor things that were removed throughout this section, such as some of Dazai’s rather rude and witty remarks to Chuuya about his height and intellect, Randou’s adorably silly and sad request to move to a non-existent potential branch of the Mafia that was near to a warm crater, and of course the moment when Chuuya lunged forward to punch Mori which I spoke of much earlier in this article, that I did actually enjoy and wish could have been left in as they were originally, but for me, that cutting of content was more than an even trade for the things — and yes, even improvements — that we got in return.

Now, I know some light novel purists are probably going to disagree with me here, and that’s absolutely fair; even among the many opinionated points I’ve already made in this article, this point is, as I stated previously, an incredibly subjective one, and everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Still, as far as I am concerned, the way that the introduction to and presentation of Randou’s ability, Illuminations, was handled in the anime, as well as the way that Chuuya was shown to be restrained by it, was far superior to that of the book, and I feel no shame in admitting that given a choice, yes, these are absolutely the only things in existence that I wouldn’t have minded seeing replace the original source material’s take when the full version of the novel released in August of 2019.

Back before that had happened — and before I was able to read a fully translated version of any of what occurred prior to Dazai’s entrance into the room — I had only been able to theorize based on the limited information provided by Lea as to what exactly Asagiri had in mind and the full picture he’d painted with words when he initially described Chuuya’s predicament, but now, I no longer have to wonder about it, as not only can I read it all for myself, but there was even a detailed illustration provided in this second edition of the book that made it entirely unnecessary to try to piece together a mental image of it at all — and thankfully, I wasn’t really all that off about it.

You see, although the anime may show Chuuya to be freely sitting in a very relaxed manner with his arms and legs — and as far as we can see, the rest of his body — completely unrestrained once Randou deactivates his ability, in the novel, rather than Rimbaud summoning and using multiple golden mini-hyperspace rooms to restrain each of Chuuya’s limbs to a chair where he was seated, it is explicitly shown and described that the teen was instead sealed within one large red hyperspace room, standing while being held back by an entire slew of more conventional and extreme physical restraints as well — the likes of which were also held in place by smaller hyperspace cubes.

It is only after Mori threatens the lives of the Sheep — not immediately after Arthur stops using his ability — that Chuuya completely freed himself so that he could lunge forward towards the Mafia Godfather, attempting to punch him; until this moment, even with the hyperspace having been removed, the teen was still kept captive by his chains.

So why, when I so strongly, openly loathe almost everything else altered within the adaption, do I prefer the anime’s interpretation of all of this to that of the actual source material it came from? Well, in regards to how Chuuya was restrained, a lot of it purely boils down to personal preference; I mean, yes, I was very much taken aback when I first saw how different it looked from what I had read and expected, but even so, there was just something so aesthetically and thematically appealing about the way it was presented in the animation — particularly the sole use of the mini-hyperspace rooms around Chuuya’s hands and feet to contain him — that I honestly couldn’t deny that I liked it and found it much more fitting than the one we were given in the book.

If you are looking for more concrete reasoning to justify this belief of mine than the inexplicable enjoyment I felt as an individual, though, I can certainly provide that, as well.

To begin with, considering Randou’s crucial role in the plot, I feel that it simply makes far more sense and leaves a far, far greater impression on the average fan for him to have this direct interaction with Chuuya during their first meeting, as opposed to simply being somewhere in the room maintaining one giant and numerous smaller hyperspaces around him and his chains that never actually even touch the boy himself in any way. Even more importantly, this arrangement is also just purely more strengthening and building of both Mori’s and Randou’s characters in general than the alternative presented to us in the original — especially as far as the television series goes.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 44/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (23/?)

At this age, genuine kindness and mercy are things that Dazai simply doesn’t yet have, nor are they things he even considers to be remotely important at all; if ever he does show signs of these two characteristics, it is absolutely guaranteed that it is only because whatever he is doing is going to benefit him in some way that — at least in his own mind — more than makes up for the effort he put into it. Even the instance spoken of previously, in which he ends the life of a dying man from GSS, was not strictly an act of mercy, for in the book, he makes it very clear with a chillingly cold tone and a hint of amusement in his words that he is only granting this release from misery because he considers it payment for getting to see the “precious scene” of the man’s death, and even then still thinks it to be more than the individual deserves.

At the same time, though, I don’t really think it would be entirely accurate or fair to say Dazai enjoys being cruel just for the sake of being cruel, either; it’s rather complex, really, because even if it’s true that he clearly does enjoy watching people suffering and squirming under his grasp and it would be a lie to say that entertainment isn’t at least a pretty major part of his motive, in the end, I think — at least as far as it concerns the truly serious matters and not just his little pranks on Chuuya — his desire to get closer to human nature and truly understand it plays a large part in it as well, as does his very unhealthy, pride-fueled need to affirm and reaffirm his own warped conclusions regarding these things time and time again (the latter of which is a subject that you can expect to come up again later in this article and be expanded upon in much greater detail there).

As Asagiri has tried to make very clear across all material dealing with Dark Era Dazai — and especially this one — at the end of the day, in his heart, Dazai is still just a child and wants to have fun as much as any other, even if his genius mind makes this extremely difficult for him to do in a fulfilling way; therefore, if he does manage to find something he thinks could be entertaining, and he also feels he might be able to learn something about the behavior and thoughts of others or ‘prove’ a point about it at the same time, well, that’s just all the better for him, even if that “fun” that he is able to find is often incredibly cruel in nature.

Of course, I don’t want you to misunderstand me here; I’m not saying that any of this makes what he does any more acceptable or forgivable even in the slightest, because it doesn’t; what he has done to others in the name of this is often absolutely twisted and wrong, and I don’t find his reasoning to make it any less detestable by any means. This is not an attempt at an excuse for his actions, because frankly there is nothing in existence that could ever excuse them, nor do I think anyone should be looking for something with which to do so; rather, I am just trying to present all of the facts to you that I can exactly the way that they are — and this is most definitely a fact, as he states it quite plainly in the very same party scene that we are currently discussing.

In the middle of their conversation about “the theory of the half-grilled meat”, Dazai tells Randou in no uncertain terms that, in his own eyes, Chuuya and Sheep are nothing more than interesting toys for him to observe, dissect, manipulate and experiment on to his heart’s content like the curious and somewhat psychotic child that he is, and the same certainly applies to any other person he knows at this stage of his life — Randou included. This is why, as I’ll explain further later, in spite of how clear it is that the associate executive is deeply distressed and struggling with knowing how to handle the sudden accusation after he is named as the culprit, Dazai still forces him to play along in his ridiculous little mystery game for his own entertainment and observation, knowing fully well that it’s not in the accused’s nature to deny him or lose patience and tell him to get to the point, no matter how much added stress such a thing may put on the poor man.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 34/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (13/?)

Without either including a monologue from a third party narrator of some variety or showing the inner thoughts and reflections of at least one of the main three characters involved — be it Arthur, Chuuya, or Dazai — there is no reasonable method of expressing Dazai’s callousness in this moment explicitly without it being very easily dismissed as precisely what we explored and ruled out above; unlike the book, which can give us the context in words as to what Dazai is reacting to and why, if the anime were to just show him smiling incredibly sinisterly and laughing at a trembling, huddled up Randou telling of his experience before demanding more information, the vast majority of the audience would most likely only chalk it up to being a supposed hint that Dazai had deduced the identity of the criminal even then and was trying to ensnare him, rather than being willing to face the idea that the suicidal fifteen-year-old could just be having fun tormenting someone who had done nothing to earn his cruelty. It would not even be possible to fully convey the true extent of Randou’s terror, or how he had never been seen in even half so bad of a state before as far as that boy was concerned, without adding dialogue from said teen which never existed and, as a result, likely lending a much more falsely sympathetic and caring air to the scene than would have been suitable; visuals or ordinary dialogue alone can’t provide this information, and therefore, at least in this case, I do feel it was reasonable for the studio to not even want to bother with it all that much.

With regard to most of the other side information that we could have learned about Rimbaud — his constant abuse and mistreatment at the hands of the old boss, which highlights even further his reasons for gratitude towards and appreciation of Mori as a leader, and his statements of not being willing to place any ultimate blame nor label of good or evil on Sheep, the Mafia, or any other less than legal organization like them as a whole, which further demonstrates his fairness to all people and ability to see all members of each as individuals rather than just “the enemy” or “an ally” based upon company allegiance, and thus his uniqueness from nearly all of his other colleagues in his thought processes — the vast majority of them can simply be attributed to a limit on time and a subsequent need to choose only that which is most essential to the plot, even if, as with many of these things, it was a terrible shame to see them fall by the wayside.

There are, however, two other details lost to this section which were not just innocently misplaced or cut simply due to time constraints, but rather, were either removed or altered with purpose — in both cases, to attain a certain specific goal.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 32/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (11/?)

Nevertheless, even if I am all for being up in arms over a lot of the changes they put the story through while adapting it, as I hope I’ve already demonstrated throughout everything I’ve written thus far, I’m not unreasonable; my intention in bringing up many of these smaller things, such as the fact that they substituted Randou burning one of his expensive paintings to keep warm in the now-drafty mansion for him burning a stack of his books instead, is not so much to chastise Bones for doing them or make a fuss about them as it is to just keep to my promise of remaining consistent with showing every difference that I could possibly think of, while also getting to show and explain to you a few of the things that personally left me a little disappointed, along the way.

Yes, if I really wanted to, I absolutely could go so far as to say that I think that, for example, in the case of the aforementioned minor change, it somewhat lessens the impact for the viewers of how important it is to Arthur to keep as warm as he can and the extremes he’s willing to go to to do that, given that as opposed to the artwork — which was stated from the start to be extremely expensive — we don’t exactly know the value of those books, but in all honesty, even if on some small level that might be true, I don’t think it genuinely effects it enough for it to be worth arguing about. In fact, I think it would be a positively ridiculous thing for me to nitpick over if I did; after all, at the end of the day, Rimbaud’s fear of the cold still shines through as brightly as any trait ever could, with or without its help, and ultimately, it is utterly harmless to everything else, as well.

I do understand that some people, Lea included, have lamented that if there was anything truly regrettable about the removal of the painting’s destruction, it was more that we were robbed of the interactions Randou had with Dazai — and, I should add, to some extent, possibly also Chuuya — as the teens set about helping him to build a fire to keep warm and find kindling for it, and I will definitely admit that that is something I would have really enjoyed being able to see animated, myself, but at the same time, no matter how nice it may have been in theory to have it, that does not make it anywhere near essential.

If anyone else thinks otherwise, well, that’s fine and I can respect that, and I wholly encourage you to advocate for and defend it yourself if that’s what you want to do, but as for me personally, “Randou should have burned a painting instead of books” is just not a hill I wish to die on — especially when there are so many other, more important interactions and details out there that had way more to offer than just a heartwarming, fluffy moment, yet somehow ended up lost along the way.

Just in this scene alone, there were already several times when interpersonal exchanges were omitted that much more clearly demonstrated the fundamental differences between Dazai and Rimbaud’s very natures and views than the above one ever could, and I would much rather focus on those now and explain in their absence what they had to teach us than continue to obsess over that one tiny and insignificant — though adorable — fragment of a moment.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 31/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (10/?)

Randou in the Burning Mansion & the Encounter With Arahabaki

Surprisingly, the vast majority of the second episode, up until the last six minutes or so, is really not so bad in regards to its portrayal of Randou — though granted, the only scene featuring him prior to that point in time is the one in which Chuuya and Dazai visit him in his mansion after it was set on fire and partially raided during an assassination attempt carried out by GSS.

Now, that’s not to say it was perfect by any means; claiming that would simply be dishonest, because there were a few smaller things that were lost in translation here, too, that I obviously would rather had been left in. Still, as I’ve said before, realistically speaking, no attempt at fitting anything this long and detailed into a mere three installments of much-less-than-30-minute episodes is ever going to be 100% perfect, so holding it to the expectation that it would would be completely irrational and absurd. Besides, as far as this one case is concerned, I do feel that Bones did at least try to use the time they allotted for this scene in the absolute best ways that they could — mostly, and for what it’s worth, on the whole, I do think that they succeeded quite effectively.

Furthermore, I simply can’t help once more reveling in and greatly applauding the absolute heaven that was Yuuya Uchida’s excellent voice acting — something that, in spite of how Bones chose to later waste it in every other scene for Arthur following this through their mischaracterization, I think deserves a great deal more appreciation and respect than it will ever get; the pure amount of heart and effort he poured into Randou’s character as it was presented to him was, on some level, even beyond the very high standard I’ve come to expect of the seiyuus in BSD in general, even if that impression they gave him of who his character was wasn’t entirely true. I was absolutely thrilled with the attention to detail he seemed to give his role — down to making it possible to hear the associate executive shuddering from the cold, both as he walks away after being dismissed from the office by Mori in the first episode, and, even more noticeably, in the very segment we are discussing now.

Experiencing these performances truly does bring an indescribable joy to my heart each time I rewatch the episodes, no matter how many times I have seen them now, and I truly wish that he had actually been given the chance by Bones to really bring Rimbaud to life exactly as he was meant to have been all the way through to the end — not only before our eyes but also our ears, as only he could possibly have done.

The next time you watch this part of the episode, please be sure to take a moment just to fully appreciate and soak all of this in, because this genuinely is the calm before the storm — the last few moments in which you will get to see and hear Randou acting anywhere close to the person that he truly was, before all of that is thrown away by Bones and treated as if it never existed in the first place. Even if they may be fleeting, these moments are precious — the only glimpses we have into all that could have been but now will never get to be.

As good as it may be overall and as much respect as it may deserve for its proper portrayal of Arthur, though, I can’t very well just spend all of my time here praising it; as I said only moments ago, it does have its flaws, and no matter how much I may love it in spite of them, those are still things that I need to talk about, what with it not only being cut incredibly short and thus losing a great many smaller details, but also possessing two rather unusual minor retcons — one of which is just yet another example of Bones’ apparent inability to pay any attention to the majority of the plot points and written descriptions in the original Fifteen.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 27/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (6/?)

Doubtlessly, it easily goes without restating that I already know this was ultimately not something Asagiri chose to let effect his supremely canonical iteration of the tale, and I want it very clear that that certainly does not mean that I will love or respect him or that iteration any less; even so, it is something I will continue to feel that the anime shockingly did better than the book, and I really do want to give it its dues in regards to that, for Bones truly did an absolutely spectacular job on it, and no matter how much I may have to say against the rest of the adaption, I want it known that none of that can ever erase that one tiny slice of perfection or the thankfulness it stirs within me every time I watch it. In terms of Randou’s physical appearance, the color of his ability, and the seiyuu chosen to play the part of his voice, I really do feel that they knew exactly what they needed to have to capture his likeness precisely the way it should have been; the issue here is not a lack of resources, nor a lack of artistic talent in terms of skill, but rather, a simple lack of any sense in regards to knowing how to use the cards in their hands once they had them to even a fraction of their true potential —or at least, how to use them while still properly respecting and doing justice to the source material they were given as a whole.

If that one excellently handled scene proves anything about this adaption and the people in charge of it, it’s that they had everything they could ever need right there in front of them and they still voluntarily threw it all away out of sheer greed, laziness, and ignorance, and that is what makes it completely unforgivable — nothing else — and that is also why I’m going to move on from praising them over the one thing they did right, to call them out on all of the things they willfully mangled or even utterly destroyed for their own ease and potential profit — starting with the very next scene, and moving all the way through to this adaption’s soulless end.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 42/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (21/?)

I suspect that many people are likely to want to argue here that the anime’s chosen starting point was nothing less than a ‘sensible’ one, given that so many people seem to subscribe to the belief that the other part was somehow ‘unnecessary’ or filler content, but I’m afraid I have to protest this supposed fact; indeed, even if someone as important and well-respected within the BSD community as Lea herself has come to think with time that perhaps this information wasn’t important to keep, I still have to respectfully but vehemently disagree with that sentiment in every way, because it is absolutely not just a throwaway conversation included for the reader’s amusement or even solely important to the proper establishment of Sheep as an organization.

Yes, it certainly fulfills those purposes as well, but every part of this scene — from its absolute, true beginning to its eventual end — is also incredibly rich in crucial characterization and plot points for not just one, not just two or three, but four major characters in this book, even if we completely disregard how it effects Sheep itself entirely.

On Dazai's Skin-Deep Kindness & Playfulness, and His True Views

In Dazai’s case, these events play an invaluable role in defining his current views and attitude at this age, which — despite any previous remarks I may have made about them not always being that necessary to show in Fifteen as a whole, due to the fact that he already has more than enough canon character-establishing material centered around him as it is — in this one particular moment, is actually desperately needed to make the story work as it was intended to and have its full impact.

While it may have been mostly harmless, in my opinion, to tone down some of his childishness and playful inclinations throughout much of the rest of the adaption and swap it out for a Dark Era-esque version of him to properly represent his inner thoughts and feelings in a more explicit way, this is one instance where doing so will absolutely devastate everything that truly matters about the plot and its characters, and that is exactly what Bones did once they got their hands on it — and exactly what they wanted to do, for that matter.

You see, in taking out the entire conversation about the party that happened between Dazai and Randou at the beginning of the phase and the discussion of the “theory of the half-grilled meat” that followed thereafter, Osamu is instantly scrubbed clean of all of the most damning parts of his personality that are present here, as well as the full reality of his heartless nature — and the same applies to the changes made to the dialogue in his inevitable confrontation and naming of the culprit, too.

Without any of the context of the preceding talk, the revelation that Dazai has set up some elaborate party for Chuuya to celebrate his newfound freedom seems especially kind and sweet of a gesture for someone who claims to despise the redhead; combine this with the altered dialogue in the adaption’s arcade scene that now portrays Dazai as having defended him and even expressed extreme disgust and resentment towards Sheep for using him, and you’ve got the ultimate falsified and doctored recipe for setting the stage to make the young bandage-wearing man look like the perfect white knight for his reluctant partner in crime.

However, if one were to truly take a step back and view the source material’s version of all of this, that illusion would quickly shatter and fall apart at the seams, as not only would it become abundantly clear that Dazai never seriously came to Chuuya’s aid in that sense at the arcade to begin with, but it would also reveal his alleged ‘kindness’ for what it really is — shallow, insincere, and sometimes even downright sinister.

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 40/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (19/?)

To begin with, there’s actually a lot of vital character building dialogue and interaction between the suicidal teen and the ebony-haired executive that happens in that location just before the point where the animated version so conveniently decides to pick up, and an even greater amount of information after this point that was either utterly ignored or completely re-written to fit their poorly crafted and utterly forgettable false narrative.

In the real story, the phase opens with the two men working fairly happily together in an otherwise abandoned building to decorate and prepare what used to be a main room for a party which Dazai states to be intended for Chuuya, celebrating his release from the Sheep; they have cheerful music being played and decorations of all kinds set up all over, with one ribbon in particular being rather long and finding itself in Dazai’s favor as a result — something you should make an effort to note and try to keep in mind, as it will become quite important later on. Grand as it all may be, though, Randou actually acts very troubled by it, even going so far as to sheepishly state twice over that it seems more like a site prepared for a murder than for a friendly celebration — or even a prank — as Dazai cheerfully and enthusiastically tells him of how he plans for Chuuya to be lured over to the cake he’s set up as a trap and fall through a hole that the carpet in front of it is covering, landing in a pit of soft mud way down below and being covered in twenty kilograms of flour until he can’t breathe. I should say that these statements of Arthur’s are an incredibly interesting remarks to have been made, considering several things, but we will return to this subject later.

After a moment, the teen changes the topic, explaining why he feels it’s better if Chuuya and his former gang could make amends at this time and for Sheep to give him their blessing in leaving their ranks; he begins to liken their current situation to “the theory of the half-grilled meat”, explaining to a curious Rimbaud that it is a theory on tactics which Mori had taught him. Given that I’m really not that confident I can explain something so complex as Dazai’s explanation quite as well as he did without basically quoting it word for word anyway, and since Randou’s response is rather crucial to something I want to discuss in just a little while about all of this as well, I’ll just place that part of the conversation here for you to read, courtesy of Lea’s lovely translations:

Immediately after this, due to the subject of Mori and his very practical theories and strategies having been brought up, Arthur opens up to the young brunet about some of his own struggles in the Mafia under the reign of the previous boss, telling him of how he was kept as one of the lowest ranking members and made to fight on the frontlines every single day for barely even any earnings at all, managing to survive where most every other had died only thanks to his ability and what he himself describes as pure luck alone; he explains to Dazai that it was only thanks to Ougai that he was even able to escape that living Hell of a life and make it as far as he had today in the first place, as that same doctor-turned-current-Mafia-godfather was the sole person who was willing to recognize his strengths and give him the position of associate executive, and such, Rimbaud felt absolutely nothing but gratitude towards him.

Following these proclamations of respect and dedication towards helping to ultimately uphold the current hierarchy, the conversation soon finds itself turned to Dazai’s earlier claims at the mansion of knowing who was behind the Arahabaki and the old boss’ re-emergence, and it is asked of the teen whether or not he was joking, and if not, whom he thought it was; this, naturally, is technically the point where the anime makes a rather shoddy and butchered attempt at starting its own iteration of the scene, though the similarities between the two versions still remain very few and far between in every possible sense. [Next]

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